


Cold

by writingonsea



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hypothermia, I need Kanan to be reunited with his Space Dads, M/M, Multi, Other, Rex will be present and mentioned as well, Set somewhere late Season 3 probably but it's not that relevant, Spoilers for the Kanan comics, The crew will be getting in later, becasue clone angst, im tagging them now so I don't forget
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonsea/pseuds/writingonsea
Summary: Janus Kasmir and Kleeve decide to land and take a few days break on a calm forest moon.Then Kleeve dragged a familiar unconsious man up the boarding ramp.-------------------Rookie bounty hunters are easy to escape from, too bad you can't always control where you escape to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed, probably a bit off a mess and written out of boredom. English is not my first language, so sometimes things might sound odd. It shouldn't be too bad but beware of weird sentences or possible accidental tense changes.  
> There will be one or two more chapters, and I will try to keep the tags updated as I go.

Kanan is exhausted, cold, dripping wet, slightly high and stumbling through the forest on some stormy forsaken moon having escaped from a pair of bounty hunters. They'd drugged him enough to kill a Bantha thinking it would keep him down. It did not. Instead he waited for them to lower their guard (sloppy), broke out, reprogrammed their autopilot and took their escape pod down to an apparently populated moon with a spaceport.

The landing was rough, two days in captivity constantly drugged, keeping it together only thanks to the force was taking it's toll and he had still not found any sign of civilization. It didn't help that the pod had landed in what could only be described as a mud field, forcing him to wade trough knee high mud in the harsh wind and rain, slipping and sliding, before reaching solid ground.

He's been walking for hours and knows he is in trouble, his core temperature running dangerously low and his remaining grip on the force is weak. But he keeps going, trusting the force to lead him in the right direction.  
He misses the steep downward slope.  
It's slippery with mud, and he goes through a few bushes on his way down. He smacks into a tree and his ribs groan as he tries to regain any kind of equilibrium as the world flies by at a slightly too high speed.  
When he finally reaches the end of the slope he just lays there, panting. It takes him a few minutes to gather himself enough to get up. New bruises and cuts everywhere, as well as a new coat of mud. Lovely.  
He manages maybe 200 meters more before his knees give out and he stumbles. And something catches him. Something warm.

Someone talking, a hand on his shoulder shaking him lightly. What sounds suspiciously like a curse. The sensational of being carried. The force cradles around him, telling him that it's safe. So he allows himself to black out, and if he dies well, he can always blame the force.

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Janus isn't quite sure what to say when Kleeve comes back from scouting the area with a filthy, unconscious, way too cold human so instead he gets the shower running and preps the medbay.

He doesn't think about how familiar the mans coloring and long hair is, nor does he think about the fact that the man should be dead with the amount of drugs in his system. The Devaronian gets the worst mud off and dresses him in some sleep clothes and together they get him onto the medbay bunk. They pile several blankets over him and give the man a shot that will hopefully break down some of the sedative in his body.

Janus can worry about the familiar metal tube on the mans belt later.


End file.
